


Mercy

by Puffinpastry



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Noir, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drug Dealing, Eventual Happy Ending, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Hero | Luminary is named Elean, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Prostitution, Sexuality, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27806971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffinpastry/pseuds/Puffinpastry
Summary: Moving to the city of Heliodor had always been part of Elean’s plan. Move to the city, track down the people he was after, and build his own name on the way.The Lord of Shadows and the Last Bastion hadn’t ever been a part of his plan, but dragged before them mere hours after arriving, his name already known and a place already made for him, Elean’s initial plans have to be put on hold as he meets more and more people who know him, and the less he knows himself.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> So. This has been an idea in my head for about a year, and a handful of broken snips since June.  
> But here it is, something a lot different from everything I’ve done before.  
> Partly inspired by and partly an AU of D. B. Shan’s City Trilogy, but primarily the first book of the three, Procession of the Dead.  
> I’m borrowing the premise and setting, a handful of plot elements, and a couple scenes (and if you’ve read the book, yes I do mean that scene.) that were too good to pass up, but otherwise isn’t connected and isn’t going to follow the same plot.  
> It’s for this reason that I’m not listing this fic under The City, and also for the reason there is no City fanfiction and I Do Not want to be the first.

“God _ damnit!”  _ Elean yelled as he forced the old car to a screeching halt, but the crack in his voice and the squeal of the tires were both lost to the high pitch of the train whistle.

Not to be outdone, Elean laid on the horn, knowing it wouldn’t do a thing to speed up the train.

Speeding along the tracks, he couldn’t see either end of it.

“God have mercy…” Erik mumbled to himself, now that they were out of immediate danger, he was right back to being annoyed by Elean’s impulsiveness. Erik’s hand grabbed at his, pulling him off the horn. “Would you give it a rest?” He begged, “For fuck’s sake, don’t draw  _ more  _ attention to us!”

“Fine.” Elean snapped, but couldn’t let himself relax in his seat the same way Erik melted into his, tension draining out of his battered and exhausted body.

Instead, he set to work. He didn’t know how long they’d need to lay low. 

They had limited supplies, and he needed to take inventory.

“How many rounds left in that thing?” Erik asked, watching from the corner of his eye as Elean held up the .45, wiping blood from the barrel.

“Four.” Just half of what it could hold. And no more. “Yours?”

“Six.”

Ten between them. 

They could make them last.

Aside from the train… the roads were empty. 

Maybe he could rest. Just a moment. 

No one was following to finish the job, and if they were, they had enough of a head start.

Besides… If they did manage to finish Elean off, Erik knew what to do.

But whether he stuck to the plan or if he would go rogue and decide to go down fighting, Elean didn’t know.

Gun put away, he took a moment to assess himself. His hands were sticky with drying blood, all his own. 

But the wound in his side had stopped screeching at him, the pain subsided to a dull ache, and his headache was steadily fading.

All the small cuts and bruises were a non-issue. 

Infection he could worry about when he knew he wasn’t going to bleed to death from the gunshot.

And Erik… 

“How’s the arm?” 

“Been better.” Erik said, holding it up to what little light came from their headlights. He flexed the fingers experimentally, and winced. “Don’t think it’s broken, though. At least not anymore.”

“Good.” Elean said, looking at the drying trail of blood that ran from his hairline.

He tried to remember what that was from. If he’d managed to get the bastard that had done it. 

Erik saw him staring, and looked back.

But he wasn’t making account for Elean’s injuries.

“We can’t go back.” He said, something they both already knew, but… As twisted and terrible as it was, Heliodor had been his home all his life. “We can’t ever go back.”

It was only Elean’s for a year.

He couldn’t understand what it must be to leave that kind of history.

The train whistle blew again, and Elean heard sirens in the distance. Not after them, no. But likely just having found what they’d left. 

“We’ll find someplace else.” 

He could still see the outline of the city in the darkness, the hulking figure of the Bastion dark against even the black sky.

Hell on earth, and they just barely made it out. 

No. Not out yet.

Elean tightened his grip on the wheel. He wasn’t going to kick it. He wasn’t going to get shot like a horse in need of putting down.

He wasn’t going to let that egomaniac or his pet have his way.

There were many ways he could ensure that, but this? This was so much  _ better.  _

“Where to next?” Elean asked. He didn’t know what they would find on the other side, with lead in their grasp was real, and which were made up.

But they have the time to learn and find out.

The train whistle screeched one last time, and the last train car passed, leaving their path outside the city clear.

“Doesn’t matter.” Erik said, reaching out one hand between them, empty and palm-up. “I’m going where you’re going.” 

Elean eyed it for a moment, noting the bruise on the palm. Erik wasn’t used to shooting a gun. 

But Elean could teach him. He placed his own in Erik’s hand, and the pain in his fingers as he squeezed didn’t matter. “You sure that’s wise?” He quipped, knowing that the little dig wasn’t enough to hide the quaver in his voice. 

“When have you known me to be wise?” Erik asked, and through the sting in his throat, Elean laughed.

Foot pressed down on the pedal, they crossed the rails.

One way or another, they were going to make it.

~~

The moment the pavement turned smooth beneath the tires of the taxi, Elean knew he’d crossed into the city, even if the buildings around were still small and modest, the towering skyline still off in the distance.

There was the biggest difference between where he was and where he came from. Smooth, city-maintained streets instead of pavement so old and chipped down that it may as well just be gravel. 

“What’re you comin’ here to do?”

Elean looked away from the approaching future, and met the cabbie’s eyes in the rear view mirror. He glared at Elean, seeing the way he was dressed, the fact he hadn’t any luggage at all with him, and wondered what breed of scum he was ferrying into what had once been the respectable capital of Heliodor.

But no longer.

Years since it was any place worth visiting. Less to live in.

Except for a select handful of people.

“I’m not sure yet.” Elean lied easily, but whether or not the man caught the fib wasn’t of any matter. “I’ll figure it out as I go.”

“...Without any belongings?”

He had his wallet. A little less than three grand to his name. All he could scrounge up before he left his backwater hometown for good. It would be enough to see him through the next month. Until he got what was promised.

And as for anything else…

There just wasn’t anything worth bringing.

“I’ll figure it out.” Elean repeated, looking back out the window, hoping that was good enough for the cabbie.

Fog blanketed the city, skyscrapers breaking through the mist but the people on the ground caught in the cold and damp.

The bleak sky turned the metropolis to a dingy grey, as if the whole of it was black and white.

A miserable place to be, but…

Heliodor had always been his goal, the end mark of the race.

But a race finished much sooner than Elean had thought.

Decades, even.

It took time to build up enough to be noticed, to be safe enough to make a  _ real  _ name for yourself in the underbelly of the world. Elean thought he had years to stumble through to make it from being nothing more than a small town thug to someone worth having around.

Nothing more than the bane of the local sheriff, moving up fast.

He didn’t know how his name had reached anyone in the city, but he wasn’t dumb enough to complain. No, he was smarter than he’d ever let on. 

He knew how to hide what he stashed away, cover his tracks, shift the blame.

The cops knew he wasn’t innocent, but without any proof there wasn’t shit they could do about him. More arrest records than Elean knew to count, but never any real charges.

A drop-out, a dealer, violent and impulsive… A disappointment to the memory of his family and foster mother, and all badges he wore with pride.

Bottom rung of the ladder, but at least he was on it.

~~

Long since abandoned the taxi, Elean walks the streets as the sun goes down, searching for the only bit of information he was given.

One address. 

A warehouse, in an empty street.

Elean pauses at the door, and wonders if he should knock.

What would be worse? Getting assumed to be an enemy if he barges in, risking being shot, or-

The handle moves before he can decide, and through the crack, someone asks, “You the kid from Cobblestone?” 

Elean loses his breath for a moment. “That’s me.” He manages to answer. “Are you…”

The door shuts, a latch clicks, and the door is thrown wide.

This time, to a widely grinning man.

“Elean!” He booms like he’d known Elean all his life, and… Well, he almost did. 

If Tomas hadn’t been so heavy on the drink when his brother was killed, Elean would’ve gone to his custody, rather than the government’s. 

He couldn’t help but resent his uncle for that, but at the same time… He understood. Losing his wife just half a year before to the same circumstance, he hadn’t been capable of caring for a toddler. “It’s good to welcome you to the family business. When I heard that you were already dipping your toes, testing the waters sort to speak… I had to bring you in. We need men, Elean. If we’re going to have any hope at keeping all this running,” he gestured to the small number of other people moving about, “Then we need fresh blood like you.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out what was in the stacks of boxes that lined the walls. So, Elean focused on something else. “You said ‘family business’ but… My parents weren’t drug traffickers or gang members. They were-”

“I know, you don’t need to tell me.” Thomas said. “They were clean, but…” He snorted. “Politicians! No more and no less criminal than we. And they knew, Elean. Don’t you forget that. They knew about this, but because I was their family, they never lifted a finger.”

Elean had assumed as much, and only nodded.

“Soon, we’re going to expand. The people around here are weak, fearful. Just a little show of strength, and our reach can grow. More money, more people… We can move away from drugs, and go where the money is.”

“I thought drugs were-”

“No,” Thomas interrupted him again, and Elean ground his teeth together to keep from speaking his mind. An annoying habit, but one he’d get used to.  _ “Weapons,  _ Elean m’boy. Once we start in on that trade, we’ll be set-”

Thomas stopped speaking, and the men in the warehouse stopped moving.

Dead silence, in the moments following the gunshots.

The boxes dropped, Tomas on the ground.

No one left.

Except for him, and those that had killed them.

Three men step from the shadows, through the door that Tomas had left open.

The assassins draw in closer, and all Elean can do is stare down at his uncle and wonder  _ why. _

He just got here. Not even a single day to make his mark on the world, to do what he came here to do! 

No time to learn the tricks of the trade from his family, to get the revenge he so dearly wanted.

“Missed one.” Elean hears one of them say, and the sound of a gun cocking. “Should I take the shot?”

Elean doesn’t move. There’s no reason to. His time is up. Unless he could move fast enough to grab the gun from his uncle’s belt before the gunman took  _ him  _ out too… 

No, he wasn’t any action hero. He was doomed.

Wrong place, wrong time.

He smiled. It must run in the family.

“Wait a moment.” Another says. “I think this is him.”

Elean looks up, to at least see his soon-to-be killers.

The one holding the gun doesn’t turn away, but another, short and fat and face riddled with old scars. 

“You Lumen?” He spits, looking Elean up and down with a sneer, like he’d expected something different. “Eleanor Lumen?”

Last words he’d say without a lisp.

The name barely past his lips before Elean struck out, catching the assassin in the jaw, and sending the unsuspecting man sprawling.

Three teeth, yellowed and bloody against the floor.

They’d kill him for sure, now.

But as Elean stared back at the rest, guns pointed straight at him, he couldn’t be bothered to care. Eleanor wasn’t his fucking name, and he’d kill the next guy who tried to use it. 

“You son of a  _ bitch!”  _

“Stand down,” Another voice spoke up, and Elean turned his sights to the man at the center of it all. “This is him. That’s what Lord Mordegon said he would do.” 

Dressed in a dark gray suit, a black undershirt, and a gold colored silk tie, not one part of his dress matched the long lavender colored hair he wore slicked back.

“But he-” The man on the ground spluttered through the blood running from his mouth, staring at the teeth.

“I am sure Carnelian can spare the funds to fix that. Calm down, unless you want to join the rest of them.” 

The fat one starts to argue, then stops. Wipes the blood from his mouth and stands, sparing one glance to his teeth. 

And Elean finally finds his voice. “Who the fuck are you?” He asks, but the words come out as more of a wheeze. 

“Doesn’t matter.” The one with the gun says, long hair pulled into two braids and pinned back. She finally lowers her gun, and gives him a once over. “Carnelian said he wasn’t to be harmed, right?”

“That’s correct.” Purple hair nods, “Come with us, Elean. We’re meant to bring you-”

“Who the  _ fuck are you?”  _ Elean demanded. “I ain’t going  _ anywhere  _ until I know who you are, and what you want-”

The gun was in his face again, and the woman left her finger on the trigger. “You were ordered to remain unharmed, but…” the barrel lowered, to point at his leg. “But mistakes do happen. The Lord of Shadows understands that much.”

“Veronica…” Purple warns. But does nothing to stop her.

Elean shut his mouth with a click.

“Good boy.” She smiled, and Elean let them load him into the back of the car they had come in. Black paint, tinted windows, no license plate.

Minutes pass in silence. The woman — Veronica — sits on one side of Elean, one leg hooked over the other, and her gun placed overtop them. 

The purple-haired man on his other side, staring.

“What’s the problem, Hendrik?” Veronica asks without looking up. 

“We will need to make a stop.” Purple,  _ Hendrik,  _ grunts.

“What? Why?”

“Look at him.” Hendrik gestures to Elean’s clothes. “He’s in no dress to come into the Bastion, let alone meet Carnelian and Mordegon.” 

Veronica looks him over, and shrugs. “So he’s a little sloppy. Big deal.” She goes back to her gun, running a cloth over the gleaming metal, though Elean hadn’t seen any dust or blood on it before. “We can worry about him looking like he’s dressed for prom later, you really want to tell Mordegon we’re late because you took the guy for a fitting?”

“Fine.” Hendrik settled, and turned to look out the darkened window instead of at Elean’s apparent horrible dress sense.

The Bastion came into view, and Elean found himself mesmerized.

The old castle-like cathedral sat in the exact center of the city, and its renaissance-style exterior stood out horribly against the modern industrial buildings all around.

What was one a historical landmark meant to bring peace and the love of god to the land and people around twisted and perverted into the epicenter of illegal activity. A standing dedication to the landslide control of the Lord of Shadow’s control.

The city had always been rife with criminal activity. 

Drug trafficking, gang wars, illegal prostitution… You name it, if it existed elsewhere, it existed here. 

But it was centralized. Controlled.

The scum kept to their streets and fought to keep even that.

Until the Lord of Shadows rose to power. 

Almost overnight. 

At least, that’s what the more outlandish storytellers would have you believe. 

Mordegon and Carnelian, partners in crime, friends, or even brothers, Elean didn’t know which outlandish theory was true, but in the end it didn’t matter which.

It didn’t change what they did.

Mordegon the mastermind behind their rise, and Carnelian the one to carry out the dirty work. Stealing and killing, making threats and buying out politicians until there wasn’t anything left to stop them from taking what they want.

Legally, Heliodor was still a part of the country around it, but it functioned more like a city-state these days.

And it was only a matter of time before Heliodor took over what else remained.

And even further, just a question of how long until it began annexing more and more.

An empire of crime, growing more by the day.

This — whatever this was — might be his key to revenge.

Their limousine stops at the front, and Elean is again given no time or space to move on his own.

Pushed through the doors, past the armed guards, no one pays him any notice, and whatever it was bringing Elean here…

He abandoned any hope for the inherent kindness of complete strangers.

The first floor of the Last Bastion still looks the same as it did before the gang’s occupancy. Stained glass,  _ reinforced  _ now or not, and rows of pews leading to a mural of the Virgin Mary, Christ across her lap. 

Never one for religion, Elean didn’t take a moment to beg god to spare his life.

“Good evening, Hendrik, Veronica.” The guard stationed at an elevator greeted them with a smile. A smile that did not last. “Booga.” He nodded to the third. “Where are you going?”

“Right to the top.” Veronica said, taking a step back, nudging Booga to do the same with her foot. “Just Hendrik and our guest, though."

The guard nodded, and now even more alone, but somehow feeling safer, Elean and Hendrik made it to the top alone.

Two rooms, one overlooking the city, and one closed off by two thick steel doors.

Hendrik stopped at a desk before them, to speak to the woman sat there. 

“He’s speaking with Jasper at the moment.” The secretary said without looking up. “I’ll let them both know you’re here and waiting, but-”

“No need.” Hendrik said, waving past her, and Elean following in tow. “This is more important.”

A knock, and Hendrik pushed through. 

The first thing Elean noticed were the paintings.

Covering the walls floor to ceiling, and not a single stretch of wall to be seen. 

Paintings of landscapes and trees, things that screamed mythological but things that Elean hadn’t the words to describe.

“Stay here.” Hendrik ordered him, pushing him to where a single plastic chair sat in the center of the ornate room, entirely out of place.

Elean sat, and waited.

At this point, that was all he could do.

Hendrik stalked to the front of the room, and climbed one of the two sets of stairs on either side of a raised platform.

Three others currently occupied the room, up on the platform. Sat behind a long oak desk in two chairs that couldn’t be anything less than thrones, were two old men.

One balded and dressed in deep purples, his skin greyed out and sickly looking, his lips painted in color, and long nails painted black.

Odd and eccentric on his own, but even stranger when compared to his partner. 

The other, hair long and white, at least looked alive.

It was no guess as to who these people were, but he waited for the proper introductions.

Silently, he watched as Hendrik stopped in the middle, breaking up a conversation between the two seated, and the man with the long blonde hair who had been speaking.

They argued, too low for Elean to hear, but when the blonde one stood down, Hendrik explained who he was.

And the two men sitting above him suddenly looked a lot less bored.

“So… You’re our little anomaly." The corpse-looking one said, and Hendrik and Jasper quickly dismounted the stairs, pulling chairs for themselves at the base. 

“Anomoly?” Elean echoed uncertainly. 

“Nevermind that.” The one that actually looked alive said. “Tell me, do you know who we are?”

“You’re the duo that make up The Lord of Shadows.” Elan answered. “I don’t know which is which, though.”

“I am Mordegon.” The Corpse answered, and gestured to the other. “And this is Carnelian. These two,” he added on, “Are Hendrik and Jasper.”

Elean nodded to show he was listening.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Elean swallowed. “I can’t say I do.” 

He expected an explanation, but he wasn’t given one. Instead, Mordegon moved on. “Tell, me… Where are you from?”

“Cobblestone. A small town of nothing three hours’ drive south. Less than five-thousand people. Just a church, school, and a few shops really, and getting poorer by the year. Ever since the mills closed up back in the-”

“And your name?” Mordegon cut him off to confirm, “Eleano-“

“Just Elean. Lumen.” Elean cut him off, and noticed the sneer that grew on his face, and the shock on Jasper’s. 

Clearly, he’d just broken a rule.

“Very well.” Mordegon agreed, and the rest in the room relaxed.

“How old are you, Mr. Lumen? Twenty-three, twenty-four?” Carnelian guessed, staring at his face.

“Twenty _ -eight.”  _ Elean corrected, damning his soft face not for the first time. He’d tried to scar himself, force his face to be that bit more intimidating, but scars never lasted long on his skin, and he never wanted to cut too deep. 

“Good.” Carnelian said. “Young enough to learn but not so young you’d be a liability.”

Elean gets frustrated, question after question! What was the point? Why's he really here? Why kill that gang, so far from his territory, why-

“Where does your experience lay?” The older man asked, sizing Elean up like a piece of prey.

“Dealing.” He answered, short. Simple. “I started when I was sixteen.”

“Hm. That could be useful.” Jasper said, his chin propped up on his hand. “But… Dealing what? Coke? Amphetamines? Heroin?”

“Weed.” Elean answered. 

They all waited.

“Is that all?” Hendrik asked.

“Th- That and speed, but I didn’t sell as much.” Elean added on as an afterthought. It was true, but… Selling what he was prescribed and what he didn’t really  _ think  _ he needed was something a little different than having to get a hold of, learn how to grow, and successfully hide marijuana plants. “There was some other stuff, but not as frequent. It was hard to get my hands on-”

“Have you ever shot a gun, Mr. Lumen?” Mordegon cut in to ask, already moved on.

“Twice.”

“What kind?” He asked.

“A shotgun. Almost antique. It’s all we had back at home, there was no arms store, and no one I trusted enough to-”

“Was it a person? Have you shot a man? Killed?”

“No.” Elean answered steadily, but his heart rate began to pick up. He didn’t know he was coming in for an interview, didn’t know just how spectacularly he could fail it… But if he lied, and the truth came to light, his meager accomplishments would only seem all the more pathetic.

“Have you fought?” 

There. 

A question he could answer.

“Of course.” Elean said. “All throughout school. Whenever someone tried to skip out on paying, if they didn’t listen to me… If someone else was trying to do my job. I got kicked out eventually, came real damn close to-”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Jasper said, shaking his head and smiling as if he was amused by all that Elean had said. 

As if Elean should be ashamed. “But I just don’t understand why you’ve brought him here. Is this really worth your time?” He looked up, and Elean gripped the arms of his chair tighter.

To stop himself from acting too soon. “So he survived, so what? You should’ve just done away with him too, Hendrik.”

Hendrik didn’t respond, but did turn his head to watch his masters’ reaction. 

Telling Elean all he needed to know about what little weight Jasper’s opinion held.

“Why are you even here?” Jasper asked, standing from his own seat just to look down on Elean. “What makes you think you’re cut out for this life? The appeal of Heliodor? Too many old gangster films? Come out here to be just like all the old classics?”

_ That  _ was enough to tell Elean that Jasper didn’t actually know all that much about  _ the old classics. _

But… As much as Elean  _ did know,  _ they were not his inspiration.

“My parents.” He said instead.

“Excuse me?”

“My mother and father were killed in this city when I was a child. I was born here. Dad was a politician and my mom was the daughter of another. We lived in the northern half, but… I was too young to remember much else.”  _ Or maybe I blacked it out.  _ Elean paused, and took a moment’s glance around the room.

They were listening.

Good.

“It’s supposed to be safe there, but… Wrong place, wrong time I suppose. There was a meeting between two gangs, fighting over the same district. They were meant to just discuss it but a fight broke out. They got caught in the crossfire, a drive-by.” Elean didn’t know why he was fed the story as young as he was, but the moment he knew the truth, knew what he was meant to have… and judged it against what he  _ did,  _ there was no question. “My parents didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t deserve the life I got when they passed. I’m here for revenge.”

Jasper scoffed, and looked back to Carnelian and Mordegon. “I’m sorry, but he isn’t fit to be here.”

“Now, wait-” Elean tried to argue, but Jasper wasn’t going to hear it. 

Turning back to Elean, he continued right on, speaking over him as if he was any better. “So you’re here to get revenge for mommy and daddy, and what? Protect the innocents that get caught in the crossfire? Why are you on the streets, then? Playing the role of police officer? Patrolling our filthy streets with your badge and service-issue gun, keeping happy couples and their little boys alive?”

“Let the man speak.” Mordegon said, raising a hand to stop Jasper. “He’s furious. I want to hear what he has to say for himself.”

But Elean would have spoken with or without the Lord of Shadow’s permission. Consequences be damned, he didn’t care what speaking out of turn would earn him. “You didn’t hear me right.” He said, speaking intentionally slowly. Below Jasper’s level at the moment, intentionally placed in a smaller space. To make him feel lesser. To make him feel weak. But it didn’t work. Even from here, he could speak down on trash like him.  _ Police.  _ Where would that get him? Even the cops back in Cobblestone were pigshit, but the ones in Heliodor? Corrupt didn’t begin to cover it. Bought out by each and every gang and criminal that could afford to toss any trinkets their way. “I said I wanted  _ revenge.  _ I don’t want to put the shooter away or see them done off with a lethal injection. How would that be satisfying? If those gangs are still around, if even  _ one  _ of those men are still alive, I want to kill them myself.”

Elean sat back, and watched the play of anger on Jasper’s face.

“How’s that for my reason?”

But even as Jasper silently raged, and Hendrik looked on impassively, Mordegon was pleased.

~~

It isn’t a far drive from The Last Bastion to The Stallion.

_ The Stallion.  _ Five hours removed from his hometown of hicks, and two removed from the lower streets of the city.

And now? In the lap of luxury.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t ask. He knew better than to look a gift horse of this size in the mouth.

_ The Stallion!  _ Elean could nearly believe he was dreaming, still asleep in the taxi, cooking up a fantasy that would leave his waking world a disappointment.

A hotel run by a long-time ally of the Lord of Shadows, it was more of a high-rise of luxury apartments for the elite, the ultra-wealthy, those in the Lord of Shadow’s employ, and his closest friends. 

He stood staring up at the brightly lit building, that his new guide had to grab him by the collar and  _ haul.  _

“Come on,” she growled, dragging him through the doors. “I’ve got better things to do than drag around dumb-struck farm boys!”

Through the bullet-proof glass of the front doors, Elean hurried to keep close to her through the crowds of people to make it to check-in.

She was already speaking to the brightly smiling receptionist, who grinned wide at Elean and welcomed him. “Could I get your name please?” She asked, typing on the computer she stood by.

“Elean Lumen.” He answered.

“Do you have a photo ID?”

“No.”

The smile slipped. “Oh, then any form of ID?”

“I don’t.” He said. He really didn’t take anything with him but cash, and the clothes on his back.

When he left Cobbestone, he left Eleanor, too.

Or at least, he’d tried.

“No credit cards? Bank cards? Membership?”

“I said no.” Elean growled, getting impatient. 

Veronica groaned loudly, drawing attention from some of the guests, but upon recognizing her, they hid their annoyed looks and pretended they hadn’t noticed at all. “Hold on,” she grumbled, pulling a few things from her purse and handing them over. “This help?” She asked.

The receptionist looked over the papers, and her eyes lit up. “Yes, yes. Just one moment, ma’am.” 

Now entirely ignoring Elean.

Only a minute passed before a few things were printed off.

“Here, thank you very much.” The receptionist handed Veronica the handful of cards, and  _ Veronica  _ turned to Elan to deliver them.

He saw who was really in charge, here.

_ “Here’s  _ your new ID, room cards, and  _ this  _ should get you buy for the next few days.” She handed each thing over one by one, and Elean struggled to take each one without dropping another. 

“What is it?” He asked, the last one gold, a leaf design imprinted on the card surface.

She stared at him like he was a particularly ugly bug in her path. “What’s it look like, jackass? A credit card.” 

He’d assumed that much. “I mean… Where’s the money coming from?”

That did nothing to change her expression. “The Lord of Shadows, who else?”

Accepting that anything he asked would be met with the same sort of annoyance, he just decided to press on. “What’s the credit limit?”

“Endless.”

_ “Endless?”  _ He repeated, and suddenly the card in his hand looked much more like a gold bar than a showy yellow strip of plastic. “I can’t afford this.”

“Don’t worry about it. You aren’t footing the bill. Just don’t go crazy. Endless doesn’t mean much if you keep racking up charges.”

“Right.” Elean said just a tad bit hoarsely. 

The three-thousand in his wallet suddenly seemed a lot lighter.

“Can you make it to your room alright, or do you need me to hold your hand?”

“I can make it myself.” He said, and Veronica finally stood down.

“Good, you aren’t completely worthless.” She decided. “Last guy I brought here tried to invite me to stay the night.” 

“I’m-” Elean stuttered for a moment, eyes wide. “Don’t, don’t worry. I’m not…”

“Good. Just means you don’t get kicked in the balls, and I don’t have to expend the effort of kicking you in the balls.”

Elean fought the urge to take a step back. “Can you wake up on time tomorrow morning or are we going to need to send you a wake-up call?”

“I can wake up on my own.” Elean said, partially thankful that it seemed his balls were safe, and partially only further alarmed that she’d switched away from the half-threat so easily.

He wasn’t going to just  _ let  _ her take him down like that, but…

A little out of his element, he shifted on his feet. 

She didn’t seem any more than a year or two younger than him, so she wasn’t a child, but-

He hadn’t yet had to hurt a woman. 

He could hear his foster mom now, if she ever found out he even  _ considered. _

“Good.” Veronica nodded, and turned to leave. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Don’t go overboard.” 

And with nothing more, she was gone.

And Elean was left to find his way to his home for the night.

_ Don’t go overboard.  _ Right. That was possible.

Standing in the ground floor of an overdone hotel that boasted three bars, two Michelin Star restaurants, spas — and if rumor was to be believed — what was all but a brothel… 

How was he  _ not  _ meant to go overboard?

At least the way to his room was uneventful. 

The keycard unlocked the door, and Elean stepped into a room bigger than the entire first floor of his old home, plush carpet, a sitting area, a desk and computer, and a bed big enough for three…

It was too much to handle.

So much from this morning to this night…

Elean knew he wouldn’t sleep.

Not when there was so much to simply go through.

With a sigh, Elean loosens the knot on his tie, and sits back on the bed, preparing for a long night, and an even longer day to come.

But as he shut his eyes just for a moment…

He’s dead to the world for the remainder of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how many chapters this one is going to be, but it’s gonna be a big one.


End file.
